"Ah," mused Diego, "but Don Wenceslas is artful. And yet, I think I see the direction of his trained hand in this." Then he burst into a rude laugh. "Come, _amigo_," he said, noting Josè's dejected mien; "let us have your story. We may be able to advise. And we've had experience--eh, Don Jorge?" But Josè slowly shook his head. What mattered it now? Simití would serve as well to bury him as any other tomb. He knew he was sent as a lamb to the slaughter. But it was his affair--and his God's. Honor and conscience had presented the score; and he was paying in full. His was not a story to be bandied about by lewd priests like Padre Diego. "No," he replied to the Padre's insistent solicitations; "with your permission, we will talk of it no more." "But--_Hombre_!" cried the Padre at last, in his coarse way stirred by Josè's evident truthfulness. "Well--as you wish--I will not pry into your secrets. But, take a bit of counsel from one who knows: when you reach Simití, inquire for a man who hates me, one Rosendo Ariza--" At this juncture the Honda's diabolical whistle pierced the murky night air. "_Caramba!_" cried Don Jorge, starting up. "Are they going to try the river to-night?" And the men hurried back to the landing. The moon was up, and the boat was getting under way. Padre Diego went aboard to take leave of his friends. "_Bien, amigo_," he said to Don Jorge; "I am sorry your stay is so short. I had much to tell you. Interesting developments are forward, and I hope you are well out of Guamocó when the trouble starts. For the rivals of Antioquia and Simití will pay off a few scores in the next revolution--a few left over from the last; and it would be well not to get caught between them when they come together." "And so it is coming?" said Don Jorge thoughtfully. "Coming! _Hombre!_ It is all but here! The Hercules went up-river yesterday. You will pass her. She has gone to keep a look-out in the vicinity of Puerto Berrio. I am sorry for our friend," nodding toward Josè, who was leaning over the boat's rail at some distance; "but there is a job there. He doesn't belong in this country. And Simití will finish him." "Bah! only another priest less--and a weak-kneed one at that," said Don Jorge with contempt; "and we have too many of them now, Lord knows!" "You forget that I am a priest," chuckled Diego. "You! Yes, so you are," laughed Don Jorge; "but of the diocese of hell! Well, we're off. I'll send a runner down the trail when I reach the Tiguí river; and if you will have a letter in Simití informing me of the status of things political, he can bring it up. _Conque_, _adios_, my consummate villain."